The POW Who Cried Werwolf
by Book 'em Again
Summary: A difficult mission from London and the arrival of unwelcome guests has the heroes crying wolf.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: A Hairy Situation**

It was a sight that would put fear in many a man's soul and it troubled Peter Newkirk's soul most of all. It was the sight of Caporal Lois LeBeau, with a pair of scissors and a comb in his hands, standing over the helpless figure of Andrew Carter who was sitting in a chair outside of Barracks Two with a tattered old bed sheet tied around his neck. While Newkirk would grudgingly admit that LeBeau was a good chef, the Frenchman was not and would never be a barber. It didn't matter how much practice LeBeau how gotten in cutting the hair for those poor chaps who they processed downstairs, there was no way Newkirk was letting LeBeau and those scissors get anywhere near his head.

Unfortunately, Newkirk was in desperate need of a haircut and the camp's regular barber, Corporal Seville, was in the cooler along with half the occupants of Barracks Eleven as Klink was being unusually stubborn about letting the men out before their thirty days were finished. It might have had something to do with the two am concert that Seville had helped organize outside the Kommandant's bedroom window though, with the way the way Klink carried on with his violin, one would think that the man would appreciate music in all its forms but apparently the Kommandant's love of music did not include ditties that insulted the Führer. It was a shame, Newkirk was told the music was quite good but he hadn't heard it as he had been too busy using the distraction to sneak three escaped prisoners from Stalag Nine out of camp.

Somehow, Carter and Carter's hair managed to survive their encounter with LeBeau's scissors as the Frenchman stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Voila! Good as new."

Running his hands through his now shorter hair, Carter grinned. "Gee, thanks, LeBeau."

LeBeau gestured for the American to rise and Carter wasted no time in hurrying towards the barracks to get a better look at his haircut. While shaking the sheet so that the strands of hair fell to the ground, LeBeau called out. "You are next, Newkirk."

Pushing his hair that was threatening to fall into his eyes out of the way, Newkirk replied politely, "No thanks. I'll wait for next month."

"Your hair needs a trim."

Newkirk remained firm. "I like me hair how it is."

LeBeau quickly glanced around to make sure their where no guards within earshot. "Who ever heard of a German with shaggy hair? The Colonel will not let you go to town looking like that."

"And no bird will look at me twice if I let you cut it."

"Carter's hair looks perfect."

"That's Carter. If you think I'm letting you touch me hair, you're out of your mind!"

Grinning, LeBeau called out, "Oi, Carter! Newkirk does not want me to give him a haircut; perhaps you can do it for him?"

Carter poked his head through the open barrack's door. "Me? Well sure, I guess. I've never given anyone a haircut before but how hard can it be? I've always wanted to try…"

"Fine!" Newkirk declared as he threw his hands up in defeat. "I'll get in the bloody chair."

Behind Newkirk's back LeBeau gave Carter a wink as the Frenchman tied the sheet around his reluctant friend's neck. "Give me a minute and you will look good enough to be an officer."

Newkirk shot LeBeau his dirtiest look. "It's bad enough that you're trying to be a barber but could you leave the comedy routine at home?"

"Ssh, be quiet. I need to concentrate."

_Great_, Newkirk thought as tried to remain still and not think about what his mate was currently doing to his hair. However, the sound of LeBeau murmuring softly in French while he wielded the scissors did little to ease to ease his nerves.

Newkirk suffered in silence until Colonel Hogan and Carter decided that he needed an audience and from the amused looks on their faces, Newkirk believed that they were enjoying their free show.

LeBeau looked up from his task and asked, "Would you like to be next, Colonel?"

"How come he gets a choice?" Newkirk complained.

"Because he is the Colonel."

Hogan smiled. "Not today, LeBeau. We have a mission."

The prospect of a mission cheered Newkirk up a bit. Except for the processing of the prisoners from Stalag Nine things had been rather quiet lately and, while he would never admit it, Newkirk was itching to get out of camp and cause some trouble.

After checking that the coast was clear, Hogan began his report. "The allies have identified a high priority target in the area."

"And they want us to take it out," Carter guessed, his voice full of eagerness. "I got some real beauties down in the lab that we use to make a big bang, or a small bang or any size bang really. Just let me know what size bang you need and I'll…"

"Carter!" Hogan interrupted. "We aren't going to making any bangs on this mission."

"We are not going to take out the target?" LeBeau asked.

"No, they wouldn't even tell me what the target is. Apparently, we do not need to know. London is planning on sending in a commando team and they want to drop them in our vicinity. We are to rendezvous and outfit them with civilian clothes and IDs and send them on their merry way."

"The guards miss a lot but I doubt that they would miss a whole unit parachuting into the woods by camp," Carter exclaimed.

"Exactly," Hogan replied. "Which is why we are going to have to come up with a plan to distract them."

Recognizing the scheming tone to his superior officer's voice, Newkirk said, "I'm all ears."

Newkirk jerked as he felt a slight slap on the back of his head as LeBeau admonished him, "And you are moving. How am I supposed to give you an even look if you are talking?"

"You couldn't give me an even look if I were quiet!"

A pointed look from the Colonel kept Newkirk in his chair but only because he figured whatever damage LeBeau was doing to his hair was probably already done. However, Newkirk was wrong as a couple of snips later he heard the word that no man sitting in a barber's chair ever wished to hear.

"Oops!"

Newkirk leapt out of the chair and ripped the sheet off in a single movement as he rounded on his mate. LeBeau looked apologetic but Newkirk didn't care. He had known that LeBeau couldn't cut hair but had anyone believed him?

Not daring to look anyone else in the eye, Newkirk raced for the barracks and to see how bad the damage was. A few moments later, laughter filled the air as a red-faced Newkirk stormed back outside. "There's nothing wrong!"

A now grinning LeBeau gave a little bow. "You are welcome."

Newkirk grudgingly admitted that LeBeau had gotten the best of him and he was already plotting ways that he could get his revenge when the front gates to the camp opened and a single black staff car drove into camp.

Recognizing the car as Gestapo, Hogan ordered, "Carter, get Kinch and tell him to shut down the radio."

While Carter moved quickly to fulfill Hogan's order, Newkirk watched as the car slowly came to a halt. The unpleasant, but familiar, figure of Major Hochstetter stepped into the summer air. Looking around the Stalag with his usual glare, Hochstetter noticed the prisoners watching but for once made no comment as he moved to let a passenger out of the back seat.

An older, silver-haired man stepped out of the car. He had a distinguished air about him that was ruined by the swastika on his sleeve. Newkirk racked his brain trying to figure if he had ever seen the man before but to no avail.

Sergeant Schultz hurried forward to greet the men but the lack of movement from the Kommandant's office told Newkirk that this was an unexpected visit. He hoped that Hochstetter wasn't planning on causing trouble even though trouble and Gestapo were synonymous. As Schultz escorted the visitors to Klink's office, LeBeau asked, "Who is that with Hochstetter?"

"Looks like a civilian," Kinch said as he joined the group.

"That's no civilian," Carter corrected. "That's a Nazi!"

"Let's not invite him to join us for coffee then," Hogan stated.

Taking the not-so-subtle-hint, Newkirk and the others followed Hogan into his quarters and gathered around the coffee pot. It didn't take long before the hidden microphone picked up the German voices.

"_Major Hochstetter, welcome, welcome. I hope that it is pleasant business that brings you to Stalag Thirteen."_

"_There is no such thing as pleasant business in the Gestapo," _Hochstetter growled. "_But you should be relieved to hear that it is not Gestapo business that brings me here. _ _Colonel Klink, let me introduce you Gauleiter Hans Lupul. Heil Hitler."_

"_Heil Hitler,"_ a chorus of voices echoed.

"_Gauleiter Lupul, I am honored that you would visit our little Stalag. An esteemed party leader such as yourself is always…"_

"_Danke, Kommandant," _an unfamiliar voice interrupted._ "I have business in Hammelburg and the surrounding area. I am recruiting young men to take part in Operation Werwolf._"

Klink's voice rose in enthusiasm. _"That sounds terribly important and to think you have..."_

Lupul didn't let Klink finish. _"It is important. Werwolf will be an elite commando trained in guerilla warfare and capable of operating behind enemy lines."_

"_Behind enemy lines! Surely we are in no danger of being behind enemy lines here!" _Klink blurted.

"_What are these treasonous thoughts, Klink?" _Hochstetter screamed._ "This project was organized by Himmler and has the support of the Fuhrer!"_

"_I did not mean anything by my comments. I was just expressing my concern…"_

Lupul cut in again, _"Major, is this man always so talkative? I believe I pressed on you the need for secrecy." _

Klink spoke up before Hochstetter could answer. _"No problem, Gauleiter. You have come to the most secure prison camp in all of Germany. There are no leaks from my camp!"_

"_Secure! Bah!" _Hochstetter spat. _"If you want secure might I repeat my suggestion that we house you at Gestapo headquarters."_

Klink sounded hurt. _"But, Major, no prisoner has ever escaped from Stalag Thirteen."_

Hogan shook his head at the exchange between Klink and Hochstetter. "They're bickering worse than a pair of soldiers fighting over a Betty Grable poster."

"I won't be surprised if this Lupul chap decides to shoot the both of them," Newkirk added.

"_Gentlemen, I have made my decision. I will be housed here. Kommandant, you will see that news of my mission does not leave this room. Major, you will set up the meetings I require. I do not wish to remain any longer than absolutely necessary."_

"_And how long will that be?"_ Klink asked.

"_Three days."_

"_Schultz, escort Gauleiter Lupul and the Major to the guest quarters and see that they have whatever they need."_

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."_

As Hogan reached over and pulled the plug, Newkirk analyzed the situation. "Well, that puts a wrench in things. There is no way Hochstetter is going to miss those commandos dropping in."

"London won't be happy if we tell them to scrub the mission," Kinch said. "They were pretty insistent that the men needed to be dropped two nights from now."

The conversation stalled as the POWs considered their new problem but Carter had a different concern on his mind. "This Lupul guy called his mission Operation Werwolf. Do you think the Nazis are creating werewolf soldiers?"

Newkirk shot his mate a look that suggested that he was barking mad but Carter didn't notice as he rumbled on, "When you think about it, werewolves would make good soldiers. They are savage and scary and they'd be unstoppable on a full moon!"

"And if I give them a saucer of milk they will start acting like little puppies," LeBeau countered.

Carter considered it for a moment. "That works with the dogs in camp but I don't think that would work with real werewolves."

"Carter, we aren't in _Werewolf of London_," Newkirk argued.

"You liked that movie?" Kinch asked. "_The Wolf Man_ was much better."

Newkirk hadn't seen the other movie but he was naturally inclined to believe that anything that took place in London was superior. But before he could defend the honor of his country, Carter asked, "What if Lupul really was a werewolf? His name sounds like the name of a werewolf."

Rolling his eyes, Newkirk shot back, "By that reasoning Hochstetter would also be a werewolf since his name is Wolfgang!"

"Golly, do you think? He certainly growls a lot. Perhaps Lupul bit him."

"No one is a werewolf," Kinch stated firmly.

Carter's face fell and Newkirk began to wonder if their teasing had gone too far when he noticed that Hogan was deep in thought. The others realized it too as they stopped talking and waited for their commanding officer to share what was on his mind.

They didn't have to wait long as Hogan looked up at Kinch. "Did you find out what phase the moon will be in when the commandos are dropped?"

"Yeah, full."

"Perfect."

"Sir," Newkirk said tentatively. "Did I just hear you say perfect? Because I can't think of a worse time to be parachuting into enemy territory."

Looking directly at Carter, Hogan smiled. "Not if there are werewolves running around."

* * *

Historical Note:

_Unternehmen Werwolf_ (Operation Werwolf) was formed by Himmler in summer of 1944 with the goal of creating an elite unit of commandos capable of operating behind enemy lines. Around 5,000 men were recruited by Gauleiters from the SS and Hitler Youth and were trained in the tactics of guerilla warfare. However, the plan was never successfully implemented and was scrapped in the final weeks of the war.

In March of '45, Joseph Goebbels gave his infamous 'Werwolf Speech' urging every German to fight to the death. Even though Goebbels' speech was unsuccessful it caused many to mistakenly believe that such an organization did exist, including the Allied Occupation Forces. As a result, hundreds of youths were arrested by the Soviets on the suspension of being part of Werwolf and were killed or interned in camps as a result. Eisenhower was convinced that he would face guerilla warfare in Germany and Churchill announced that German troops would held in camps for months after the war was over in order to prevent Werwolf activity.

Even though Operation Werwolf was military failure it still resulted in repercussions that lasted long after the war was over.

Source: Wikipedia


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?**

"Roll Call! Out, out, everyone out!"

Carter groaned as he opened his eyes. He generally liked Schultz but it was on days like this that he was tempted to throw a pillow at the large sergeant – that was he would have if he had a pillow.

Rolling out of bed, Carter noticed Newkirk standing over the sink as he shaved with a nice sharp razor rather than the rusty, teetering on blunt ones the POWs normally used. Carter smiled as it looked like his friend's pre-dawn mission had been successful. "Aren't you afraid you'll get sick?"

Newkirk grinned. "The RAF made me get me shots."

Schultz put a stop to further conversation. "Raus! Raus!"

Throwing an arm around the large guard's shoulders, Newkirk led him out the door. "You know, Schultz, we'd move a little faster if you waited, oh, another hour before barging in here…"

With Schultz out of the way the POWs slowly dragged themselves out of bed and shuffled outside. Even though they didn't have any reason to delay roll call this particular morning none of them saw any reason to hurry. Several minutes later an exasperated Schultz began to count the tired and grumbling POWs as Carter stood in his usual spot next to Kinch.

While a relieved Schultz reported that all prisoners were accounted for, Carter's eyes were drawn to Hochstetter and Lupul as they joined Klink in front of the office. The sight was just too perfect: both men were scruffy and unshaven as they looked as if they had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Unable to hold back an audible snort, Carter received a sharp elbow to his side courtesy of Kinch as he shook with silent laughter. It was too much fun to imagine what Hochstetter's face would have looked like when he woke up and found his razor missing.

Smirking, Hogan called out, "Hey, I thought everyone had to be presentable for roll call."

"Hogan!" Klink cried.

If looks could kill then Hogan would died on the spot due to the glare Hochstetter sent his way. Though, for once, the Gestapo major remained silent as he helped Gauleiter Lupul into a waiting staff car.

As the Nazis drove off, Carter said, "Someone's not a morning person."

"Hochstetter's not an anytime person," Kinch replied.

"Dismissed!" Klink hollered with some difficultly as pockets of conversation had broken out among the ranks.

Once the men were back in the barracks, Carter rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Can I have one of those razors? A man has can't let himself look scruffier than the Gestapo, you know.

"Aw, cute," LeBeau joked, "Carter has hit puberty."

A balled up sock flew through the air hitting the Frenchman who quickly responded by flinging some dirty laundry of his own. The rest of the barracks joined in the friendly battle as they let off steam caused by late night preparing for those commandoes to drop in. Once the barracks floor was indistinguishable from a laundry hamper the men turned to cleaning up the mess before settling into their daily routine.

A few hours later, Carter was staring longingly out the barrack's window at the lively game of baseball being played on the other side of the camp. Then, after looking at Kinch who was taking advantage of the sunny weather to read one of the novels they received in their last Red Cross packages, he sighed. "I wonder what is taking Schultz so long. We checked the schedule and he's supposed to patrolling by the barracks today."

LeBeau shrugged as he continued mending a hole in his sock. "It is Schultz. Maybe he snuck off to take a nap."

"I hope not. It's too nice to spend the day inside waiting on him."

"Good. Laundry needs to be done. Once we finish this job you can go outside and do that."

Before Carter could think of a retort, Kinch suddenly stood and walked away from his spot, leaving the book behind on the bench. Carter smiled; that was signal he had been waiting on.

"Schultz is coming," Carter declared as he grabbed what he needed off the table and ran out the barrack's door, sprinting towards the center of camp as fast as he could.

LeBeau was two steps behind the American. "Stop, thief!" the Frenchman hollered, shouting loud enough for half the camp to hear.

Carter came to a halt and made a half-hearted attempt to hide the objects behind his back. "I didn't steal anything!"

"Liar!" LeBeau spat. "You took my garlic."

"Your garlic? Just because you cook doesn't mean that you own all of the food!"

Not liking the sight of two of his favorite prisoners arguing, Schultz hurried over. "Cockroach, Carter. What is going on here? Why are you fighting?"

"Carter stole the garlic I need to make my aioli."

Clutching the garlic possessively, Carter shot back, "Well, it's not just your garlic. It's the barracks' garlic and I need it more."

"Carter, it is not nice to steal. If LeBeau needs garlic to cook with then LeBeau should have the garlic." Schultz then leaned towards the Frenchman and asked eagerly, "You will make enough for me?"

_Figures_, Carter thought to himself; Schultz knew who made the strudel. "Food isn't important right now. This garlic will protect me from the werewolves."

Schultz was stunned. "Food is not important?"

"Garlic protects you from vampires not werewolves! Aconite is what you need," LeBeau declared as he fingered the ring of purple flowers he had tied around his neck.

"Acon…what?" Carter stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

"Aconite, do not tell me you have never heard of wolfsbane."

"I've never heard of wolfsbane," Carter replied as he looked skeptically at the flora his friend was wearing. "And if garlic wards off vampires then it should ward off werewolves."

"It is called wolfsbane. Wolf's _bane_. You Americans do not even know your own language."

"Well at least people can understand English and it's not a bunch of gibberish like French!"

LeBeau responded with several sentences of French which, to Carter, only confirmed his prior point.

Deciding that the situation was getting out of hand, Schultz decided to assert his authority in the nicest way possible. "Please stop yelling at each other." When Carter and LeBeau grew quiet, he asked, "Why are you worried about werewolves?"

"Tomorrow's a full moon and everyone knows the werewolves come out on the full moon," Carter stated matter-of-factly.

Schultz looked confused. "But there are no werewolves in Germany."

LeBeau looked around conspiratorially and then whispered, "Schultz, you saw the Gauleiter come in with Major Hochstetter yesterday, right?"

"I see nothing!" Schultz reacted instinctively before asking, "What was I supposed to see?"

"That man with Hochstetter who was talking about something called Operation Werwolf."

"How did you hear about that? Never mind, I do not want to know."

"We heard that he plans to create an army of werewolves," LeBeau said.

The usually gullible Schultz wasn't buying it. "Jolly jokers."

Carter clenched his garlic possessively. "You don't think he'll come after us prisoners?"

LeBeau shook his head. "No, we are the enemy. He is probably here for the guards."

A hint of panic entered Schultz' voice as he began to reconsider his earlier position. "You are joking, right?"

LeBeau shrugged. "You do not have to believe us, but do not coming running to us when you sprout fur and have the urge to howl at the moon."

Schultz shuddered as Carter gently nudged his friend. "LeBeau, to be on the safe side, why don't I give you some of my garlic and you give me some of your wolfsbane."

"Deal."

The two prisoners, their 'fight' forgotten, walked together back toward the barracks.

"Wait!" Schultz cried out. "You could share with me."

"Sorry, Schultz," LeBeau replied as he looked back over his shoulder. "You will have to go into town and get your own."

"We like you, Schultz," Carter added. "But with werewolves around it's every man for himself."

* * *

Hogan felt the edge of the office cabinet dig into his back but it was an indignity he willing to suffer as his lips were currently pressed against something much more pleasant.

"You still haven't told me what you want," Hilda said between kisses.

"Can't a man just enjoy being with a beautiful woman?"

"Colonel Hogan, you always want something."

"Hmm," Hogan replied as he glanced out the window. Then leaning in for another kiss, he added, "It can wait."

Smiling, Hilda wrapped her arms around his shoulders and Hogan began to wonder if he should arrange a rendezvous for tonight when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the car he had been waiting on approach the front gate. Cursing Major Hochstetter's timing, Hogan pulled back from Hilda's embrace. "I must see the Kommandant."

"Now?" a frustrated Hilda asked.

Hogan didn't answer as he had already burst into the Kommandant's office. "Sir, is it true?"

"Is what true?" Klink replied before realizing that senior POW officer had barged into his office without knocking. "Hogan, I am too busy to listen to your silly questions."

Hogan glanced suspiciously at Klink's paperwork-free desk but decided he'd get further quicker by playing along. "Fine, sir, I can see you are busy it's just with all those rumors about werewolves flying around camp…"

Klink leapt to his feet. "How do you know about Werwolf?"

"So Hochstetter and Lupul are planning to make werewolf soldiers," Hogan said.

"Hogan, that's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

Stealing a cigar, Hogan stuffed it into his jacket. "I agree, sir, but all this Werwolf talk is frightening my men."

Klink slammed the lid of his humidor shut. "I do not want to hear any more talk about werewolves or Werwolf and that is an order."

"Then you should order Hochstetter and Lupul to stop toying with my men. Purposely looking scruffy at roll call was a little much wouldn't you say?"

A hint of annoyance crept into Klink's voice. "Hogan, I will not listen to your American imaginings any longer."

Leaning forward, Hogan pressed his point. "Have you ever heard of a German officer who failed to shave?"

Klink looked horrified. "No! Regulations state that all men must be clean-shaven at all time."

"There you have it," Hogan stated. "Hochstetter and Lupul are loyal Nazis. Do you think they would do something as un-German as breaking a rule if they weren't trying to scare my men?"

"Of course not," Klink mused. "It would be unthinkable."

Before Hogan could respond, the door to the office flung open as Hochstetter walked into the room with the Gauleiter at his heels. The timing of the entrance couldn't have been more perfect as Hogan was pleased to notice that neither man had managed to take the time to shave while they were out in town. And, from the look on Klink's face, the Kommandant noticed the day's growth on both men's faces as well.

Hochstetter, however, was not pleased to see Hogan. "What is this man doing here?"

"Now, Major, is that anyway to say hello? A gentleman would begin with how do you do or guten tag."

After shooting Hogan his best glare, Hochstetter turned his ire on Klink. "Why are your prisoners decorating the camp with flowers?"

"Flowers? There are no flowers…" Klink began as he looked outside where he noticed that purple flowers hanging on all the barracks. "Hogan! Why are the barracks covered in flowers?"

"We thought it would add a homey touch, sir."

"But where did you get so many flowers?"

"Yes, Hogan, where did you get the flowers?" Hochstetter growled. "Have you been sneaking out of camp to pick them?"

"If my men were out of camp they would have escaped not picked flowers," Hogan reasoned, thankful that the truth was too ludicrous for even Klink to believe.

The veins on Hochstetter's forehead were starting to show. "You did not answer my question."

"Gentlemen," Gauleiter Lupul interrupted. "I have no time to listen to your bickering. Colonel, I would like my meals sent to my quarters and for you see that I am not otherwise disturbed."

Klink moved quickly to fulfill the request. "Certainly, Gauleiter. I shall order Schultz to see that you are not disturbed for any reason,"

However, as Klink opened his office door he bumped in the figure of Corporal Newkirk who hold a dust rag in one hand and a bucket of cleaning supplies in the other.

Stepping into the room, Newkirk tipped his cap and said, "Guten tag. Don't mind me. I am just here to clean the ole office."

Hogan was unable to resist. "See, Major, that's how one should greet company."

"Bah!"

Newkirk set down the bucket, pulled out an ornate silver spoon and began wiping it with his rag, seemingly oblivious to the way he was blocking the exit.

Glaring at the new arrival, Gauleiter Lupul ordered, "Someone remove this scum from my path."

Looking properly admonished, Newkirk stepped to side and once again collided again with Klink who weakly pushed the Englishman away. Pretending that Klink possessed an ounce of strength, Newkirk 'fell' into the Gauleiter making sure that the silver spoon made contact with the Nazi's skin. If Hogan hadn't been watching for it he would have never seen Newkirk's free hand pinch the underside of Lupul's arm.

The Gauleiter reacted perfectly as he jumped back and screamed, "How dare you? I should have you shot!"

Hochstetter was beside himself. "Klink! This camp is an embarrassment to the Third Reich!"

Before a thoroughly helpless Klink could respond the two Nazis stormed out of the office.

A trembling Newkirk looked at the silver spoon as if it was going to bite him. "Did you see?" he croaked.

"I saw…" Klink began but stopped when he looked again at what Newkirk was holding. Grabbing the ornate spoon, the Kommandant demanded, "Where did you get this?"

"Well, I…"

"This is mine. I should have you thrown in the cooler for this!" Klink shouted, shaking his fist.

Dropping to knees, Newkirk grabbed the front of his Kommandant's uniform. "Please do, sir. Sentence me to the cooler. No Gestapo werewolf will be able to bite me in there."

"Get up, Corporal!" Hogan ordered, pulling a quivering Newkirk off of Klink. "I told you, sir, the men are terrified."

"Hogan, the Gestapo may be animals but calling them werewolves is a little much." Klink suddenly paled as he realized the implications of his words. "What am I saying?"

"What we were all thinking," Hogan replied as put one hand on Newkirk's shoulder and led him out the door leaving a thoroughly confused Kommandant in their wake. Once they were outside, Hogan and Newkirk exchanged a grin. The seed had been planted. A couple more nudges and Klink would convince himself of what they wanted.

Resisting the urge to whistle, Hogan stuck his hands in his pockets and decided to take a stroll around the camp to see how the rest of the plan was coming along. Within a few steps, Hogan was able to answer his own question. The guards watched uneasily as the allied prisoners continued to hang wolfsbane on their barracks. It looked like the rumors had spread faster than he had thought possible. Plus, if he wasn't mistaken, Hogan thought he saw a few crucifixes on the guards over by the motor pool.

Continuing his walk, Hogan intentionally stopped to thank the men from the other barracks who had arranged for certain conversations to take place within earshot of the English-speaking guards before heading back to Barracks Two. As he neared the barracks, he saw Kinch leaning by the doorway and, from the look in his eye, the colonel knew that the staff sergeant had news.

After gesturing for Kinch to join him in his quarters, Hogan asked, "Word from London?"

"Yes. London is very interested on any information we can provide on Werwolf."

"Worried are they?"

Kinch nodded. "They know Hitler has a fanatical following. They fear what those followers will do if we win the war."

"You mean when we win the war," Hogan corrected. "Is everything ready for tomorrow night?"

"Yes, sir. London is a go."

Surprised, Hogan pressed for more information. "They didn't balk at the coordinates you sent for the drop point?"

Kinch grinned. "The line went quiet for a moment and then they replied, 'That is rather cheeky, I'd say, but that's not the cheekiest plan your Papa Bear has come up with so we'll play along.' Then they signed off."

Hogan chuckled at Kinch's exaggerated accent. "And that, Kinch, is why we are winning this war."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Don't Forget to Howl at the Moon**

Sitting in front of the switchboard, Kinch connected the final wire and placed a call to a very familiar number.

The phone didn't ring long before it was picked up. "Colonel Klink speaking."

In his best German accent, Kinch said, "I need to speak with Major Hochstetter."

"Major Hochstetter here."

"This is Obersturmführer Kinchmeyer of the Sicherheitsdienst. We just received a report of a plot to bomb party headquarters in Dusseldorf tonight." Kinch heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line; the seriousness of this report was not lost on Hochstetter. "An agent overheard a conversation in a bar. He was unable to identify any of the men but he heard them state that their orders came from a man known as Papa Bear."

If that wouldn't get Hochstetter out of Stalag Thirteen then Kinch didn't know what would. He just hoped that the threat to headquarters would also get Lupul out of camp like Hogan believed it would.

"I hear you," Hochstetter replied. "I will mobilize my men in Dusseldorf immediately. Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler."

Ending the call, Kinch turned and looked at Carter who was finishing darkening his face for his mission outside the wire. Since he had spent most of the day in the tunnels working on getting transportation with the underground among other tasks, Kinch inquired, "Are the guards ready to bolt?"

Carter's face light up. "They're good and scared. Klink caught Private Hofer melting down his good silverware to make silver bullets and boy did he yell."

"Did Klink confiscate the bullets?"

"The bullets weren't finished and Klink locked up all the remaining silver in his safe."

_Good,_ Kinch thought. The last thing they needed would be for the guards to feel like they could get trigger happy.

At that moment two eager and energetic German shepherds bounded into the room. They were followed by LeBeau who was also dressed to go outside the wire. One of the dogs ran up to Carter who was delighted when he realized that he would be partnered with the aptly named Wolfgang.

LeBeau looked eager as he joked, "I found these dangerous werewolves."

"More like big were-puppies," Newkirk quipped as he and Olsen joined the group. "Their lick is more dangerous than their bite."

Wolfgang decided to confirm Newkirk's point by standing on his hind legs and planting a big kiss right on the Englishman's lips.

Newkirk grimaced as he ordered, "Down boy. We can't have you messing up the uniform, can we?"

Kinch chuckled at the thought of the dogs messing up the purposely ripped, wrinkled and 'bloodied' Luftwaffe uniforms that Newkirk and Olsen were wearing.

"You think this is too much blood?" Newkirk twirled around for Kinch to see. "I won't want to overdo it."

"I don't think we can overdo this one," Kinch reasoned.

Soft footsteps heralded the arrival of the leader of their merry band. "Hochstetter and Lupul have left camp," Hogan announced. "Is everyone ready?"

"Of course we are ready," LeBeau declared. "Right, Fritzi?"

The large German shepherd barked in reply.

"Ssh, not yet."

Newkirk grinned evilly. "Ready to have some fun, sir."

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Just remember to stick to the script. No improvising."

Olsen nudged his partner and promised, "Don't worry, sir, I'll keep this troublemaker in line."

Kinch had his doubts about that; Olsen had a mischievous streak of his own. However, Kinch had no doubts that the pair would fulfill their duty.

Knowing that it was nearing time for roll call, Kinch helped see the dogs and his colleagues out the emergency tunnel and then followed Hogan back to the barracks.

As soon as Kinch climbed out of the tunnel he could feel the energy in the room. The men had rearranged the furniture to block the barracks door and looked eager to carry out their further duties. Kinch knew that a similar scene was playing out in the other barracks. It wasn't often that they pulled off a caper that involved the whole camp but when they did the men usually leapt at the chance to contribute.

It wasn't long before Schultz arrived to collect the prisoners for roll call. Kinch heard the door rattle as Schultz tried to open it. After pounding failed to change the door's status, Schultz hollered, "Open this door!"

"No way," Davis called out.

"It is time for roll call."

"Not with werewolves out there!" Mills insisted.

"No more werewolf talk. Everyone out! Out!"

Kinch got in on the fun. "There's a full moon out there!"

Schultz groaned. "Colonel Hogan, please order your men to open the door. This is no time for monkey business."

"Sorry, Schultz," Hogan replied. "I won't make my men risk their lives just to get counted."

Schultz was sounding more frustrated by the second. "I have to make sure everyone is present."

Hogan was firm. "You can do it through the door."

"How?" a bewildered Schultz asked.

"Addison!" Hogan called.

"Present," the POW replied.

"Baker!" Hogan continued.

"Present."

"Carter."

"Here," Kinch answered in a fairly close approximation of Carter's voice.

The roll call continued until all fifteen names had been called. Winking at his men, Hogan asked, "Happy, Schultz?"

"Yes, Colonel Hogan. I mean no, Colonel Hogan. I must see the prisoners."

"If you think we're opening…" Hogan began when an earsplitting howl echoed throughout the camp, followed quickly by another.

"Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan! Tell me I am not hearing what I think I am hearing." When the door continued to refuse to budge, Schulz cried out all the more desperately, "Colonel Hogan, let me in! I do not want to be eaten by the werewolves!"

* * *

Outside of camp it was hard to tell who was having more fun: the humans or the dogs.

LeBeau's training with the dogs over the past couple days had worked perfectly as they both understood that the command 'sing' meant that the humans wanted them to howl and they were more than happy at this opportunity to run around the woods making loud noises.

"I wish I could have seen Schultz' face when the dogs started howling," Carter said wishfully.

"I can picture that easy," LeBeau countered. "It is the same look he gets when I tell him that there is no apple strudel."

"For Schultz that is a real horror!"

Looking over the woods and the distance they had to cover, LeBeau suggested, "We should split up."

"You don't want to be a pack?"

Rolling his eyes, LeBeau gestured for Carter to get moving.

"Alright, I'm going." Then calling for Wolfgang to follow, Carter left to travel in the opposite direction around camp.

Moving swiftly through the forest, LeBeau led Fritzi within sight of the front gate. Looking at his watch, the Frenchman waited for Newkirk, with Olsen's help, to do what he did best.

Right on schedule, Newkirk and Olsen came stumbling up the main road crying, "Help!"

Tripping so that he fell to the ground only a few meters away from the gate, Newkirk gasped, "Beasts, horrible beasts."

"We were attacked," Olsen cried as he bent down to assist Newkirk. "You must help us!"

The guards rushed to open the gate and save their comrades which meant that it was time for LeBeau to act. "Okay, Fritzi, you know what to do," he ordered, "sing."

Fritzi sat down and let loose a long and loud howl. At the sound, the guards abandoned any thought of helping their injured colleagues and instead slammed the gate shut before sprinting for the barracks as if their very lives depended on it. By the time the guards were out of sight Newkirk and Olsen had already disappeared into the bushes.

Giving Fritzi a several well-deserves scratches, LeBeau praised his furry friend, "Good dog."

The German shepherd responded by jumping up and licking his human companion's face. Pushing the canine back down, LeBeau started jogging further into the forest. "Come, Fritzi. It is time to scare more boche."

* * *

Colonel Wilhelm Klink had no idea what was happening in his stalag. Guards were fleeing their posts, reports of injured men filtered in and the howls of a creature that a couple of hours ago Klink would have sworn did not exist filled the night air. As Kommandant he knew that he should do something! It was his duty to restore discipline and see to the safety of the prisoners, but surely stopping a werewolf invasion was outside of his job description!

Besides, it was hard to run a prison camp when one was quivering under one's bed. If only those paper-pushers in Berlin knew the things Klink had to put up with watching out for these prisoners. Werewolves! Surely none of the horrors of the Russian front compared to this!

The door to the bedroom swung open which caused Klink to let out a shrill shriek. The intruder jumped back in fear and Klink realized that it was just Schultz. "Schultz! Why are you not protecting this camp?"

Schultz knelt down on the floor so he could better see the face of his commanding officer. "I cannot, Herr Kommandant. The guards have all locked themselves in the barracks."

Cursing the cowardice of his men, Klink shook his fist as best as he could from under the bed. "Go back outside and organize a defense or I will charge every man with desertion."

"Please, Herr Kommandant, I have five children," Schultz begged. "I do not want to die."

A retort died on Klink's lips as another earsplitting howl caused him to let out another shriek and wonder if he would live to see morning. Taking advantage of his commanding officer's fear, Schultz slowly backed into the closest corner and covered his ears in an attempt to block out the sound of the night's horrors.

* * *

Hogan enjoyed seeing a plan come to fruition and nothing was more enjoyable the sight of full grown men running for their lives from a creature that existed only in their minds.

Once the stampede of fleeing guards had disappeared into their barracks, Hogan had the men clear the door and then sent out scouts to ensure that there were no courageous stragglers remaining. Addison was the first to return a few minutes later.

"I can confirm that all guards have abandoned their posts."

Hogan nodded, unsurprised at their faithful watchers collective lack of spine. "Are Mills and Davis in position?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell them to give the signal as soon as they hear the plane."

Addison acknowledged the order and raced off toward one of the guard towers where the aforementioned men were waiting.

Hogan strolled into the middle of camp with a grin on his face. It was freeing to stand outdoors, after hours, surrounded by barbed wire and be affirmed by the knowledge that those outward signs of imprisonment were not what kept him here.

One of the dogs howled again and Hogan noted how eerie it sounded when one was standing under the light of the full moon. He knew that it was just the dogs but the noise still made the hairs of his neck stand on end.

Twenty minutes passed before Hogan heard the sound of a plane approaching. Immediately, Davis and Mills pointed a searchlight at the sky and quickly turned it on and off in the prearranged signal that told the commandos their landing zone was clear.

Hogan held his breath as parachutes filled the sky – this was it!

One commando touched down safety, then two, and then four until all fifteen men were safely on the ground in the middle of Stalag Thirteen.

Doors to the barracks flung open as the men rushed the courtyard to assist the men out of their chutes and lead them to the tunnels beneath camp. Hogan moved to the soldier closest to him. The young man was half in shock as he asked incredulously, "This is a prison camp? Where are the guards?"

"Most likely shaking under their beds," Hogan said.

Another howl caused a different commando to jump. "What was that?"

"The reason the guards are shaking under their beds," Hogan stated. "Now move; we can't count on the guards being scared all night."

Shrugging off the remains of his parachute, the commando gave a quick salute and followed a waiting POW to Barracks Two and the tunnel below.

Hogan remained outside until all the commandos were clear and his men had removed all signs of their landing. When he was able to make it down to the tunnels he was pleased to see that Kinch had everything running smoothly. The commandos were busy changing into civilian clothes and getting pictures taken for their ID cards.

It was a testament to every man in the camp that the process to outfit the commandos was accomplished in less than an hour.

Pulling the lead commando aside, Hogan handed him a map of the area. After pointing out the location of the camp, Hogan moved his finger to a mark only a couple of miles away. "We have a truck hidden here; it can't be traced back to us so use it however you need to."

The soldier acknowledged the information and then asked, "Out the front gate?"

Hogan chuckled. "We could probably get away with it but to be on the safe side we'll take you out the emergency tunnel."

* * *

The howls had stopped hours ago but Schultz wasn't a man who took his own safety lightly. In other words, there was absolutely no way that he was leaving his corner until he was a hundred percent positive that there were no werewolves still out there running around. He had no desire to be eaten.

"Psst, Schultz."

Schultz looked up and spotted LeBeau sticking his head though the Kommandant's bedroom door. The Frenchman gestured for him to come but Schultz shook his head no. Undeterred, LeBeau conjured up a tin plate and on lifting the lid Schultz felt his stomach react to the wonderful smells.

It only took a few moments for hunger to win out over fear as Schultz left his corner behind and joined LeBeau in the sitting room as he wolfed down the mushroom omelet.

"Schultz, you must hurry and finish. The guards are needed back at their posts."

Schultz shrugged and kept eating his breakfast. He saw no reason to hurry. The longer he remained inside the safer he would be.

LeBeau, however, was persistent. "Klink is going to wake up and when Klink wakes up he is going to see that there are no guards at their posts. And when Klink sees there are no guards at their posts he will blame you and you will find yourself on a train to the Russian front."

"Cockroach," Schultz moaned. "You must not talk about such things when I am eating. It gives me an upset stomach."

"Fine," LeBeau answered with a shrug. "We will see how much your stomach enjoys borscht seasoned with bullets."

Schultz hated it when the prisoners used logic on him; it was not fair. Dragging himself to his feet, he picked up his rifle and headed for the door. However, when he reached it, a sudden thought hit him. "Are there werewolves outside?"

"Non. They left when the moon went down. We checked."

"Good," Schultz replied, purposely not asking if 'checking' meant that the prisoners had gone outside the wire. There were some things that it was better for him not to know.

By the time Schultz reached the guards' barracks his fear of werewolves had been replaced by fear of what would happen if Klink saw the empty guard towers. Kicking down the locked door, Schultz bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Raus! Raus! Any man not at his post in one minute, I will personally report to the Kommandant."

Mayhem quickly followed as half-dressed guards crawled out from underneath beds and came out of closets. They all seemed to pick up on Schultz' urgency as they threw on clean uniforms and ran to their posts. By the time Schultz wandered back out onto the main yard, Stalag Thirteen looked like a prison camp again.

It wasn't a moment too soon as Klink appeared on the steps of the Kommandantur calling for Schultz to wake the prisoners.

Roll call!

A new worry entered Schultz' mind as he shuddered to think if any prisoners had taken advantage of the empty towers to escape. But the prisoners had been scared of the werewolves too! Surely they would not have escaped.

Knowing there was only one way to find out, Schultz entered the now flower-free Barracks Two to rouse the prisoners. As he convinced the moaning and complaining prisoners to line up, the sergeant was struck by how normal the morning seemed. As Schultz came to the end of the line, the cheerful look on Colonel Hogan's face made his stomach churn. For Hogan to be this happy Schultz realized that there must have been some monkey business going on last night. But, again, he reminded himself that he was not to think about things like that. After all, his policy was to know nothing and if all the prisoners were accounted for then it didn't matter what had happened last night.

At least that's what Schultz kept telling himself.

Turning back to the Kommandant, Schultz reported, "All present and accounted for."

Klink stepped forward and Schultz prepared himself to listen to another boring speech but luckily, or not, he was spared due to Major Hochstetter driving through the front gates.

The Gestapo Major was not in a pleasant mood – well in less a pleasant mood than normal.

"Klink!"

Klink jumped as scurried to appease the mad major. "Major Hochstetter, how pleasant it is to see you. Where is Gauleiter Lupul?"

"The Gauleiter remained in Dusseldorf," Hochstetter answered. "Now, tell me something, Klink. Last night I was summoned away from this camp due to a report that turned out to be a phony. Now, can you tell me why this happened while I was in your camp?"

A flustered Klink replied weakly, "So the pranksters would not have to call long distance?"

"Wrong! Your Colonel Hogan needed me out of camp so he could engage in activity with the underground."

Klink looked shocked. "I do not know how this is possible. Hogan is here and he was confined to barracks all night. He could not have met up with the underground."

Growling, Hochstetter gave up on Klink and turned to Hogan. "Where were you last night?"

Hogan cocked his head and smiled. "This camp is like home to me, sir. If I ever wanted to leave, I would make sure to inform the Gestapo of my change in address."

Schultz feared that Hochstetter was in danger of getting violent when Fraulein Hilda hurried over and handed the Major a piece of paper.

"Excuse me, Herr Major, but I have an urgent message from headquarters."

Grabbing the paper, Hochstetter quickly read the written words, his face growing paler by the second. When he finished a pin drop would have been audible as the whole camp waited to see how the Gestapo man would react.

Hogan stepped forward and Schultz groaned; the American officer never seemed to understand when to leave things alone.

"Bad news, Major?"

"Bah!" Then ripping the paper to shreds, Hochstetter stormed back to his car and left the Stalag as quickly as he entered it.

The Kommandant, looking more helpless than normal, fell back on the comfort of routine as he dismissed the men and returned to his office.

Confused by the sudden turn of events, Schultz wandered aloud, "What was that about?"

An eager Carter also inquired, "Gee, Colonel, do you think the commandos blew up something important?"

Commandos? Schultz hated being right; there definitely had been some monkey business going on last night. "Colonel Hogan, what is this about commandos?"

Hogan turned to face the sergeant of the guard. "Do you really want to know?"

_Why did he even ask?_ "No! I want to know nothing – nothing!"

"No worries," Hogan reassured him. "We don't know what the commandos did. They might have blown something up or they might not have. This time we all get to know nothing."

Clapping his hands over his ears, Schultz let out a cry of protest as he fled the scene. This was bad. Enemy commandos dropping in on his watch was very bad. Therefore, there was only one possible solution for this problem. He would forget that it happened and instead find a place where he could hide while he took a much needed nap. After all, this whole werewolf business had taken a serious toll on his sleep schedule.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Thank you to all my readers and reviewers for your kind words, support and advice. At the urging of a few of my reviewers to tidy things up a little more, I wrote this chapter. It took me a while to come with an idea that I thought worked as a natural extension and I promise you this is really the end this time. Finally, a huge thank you to my beta who took some time out of a very busy week to look this over; I couldn't have done it without you. _

* * *

**Chapter Four: Liar's Reward**

"_This is how liars are rewarded: even if they tell the truth, no one believes them."_

"The Boy Who Cried Wolf" in _Aesop's Fables_

Colonel Wilhelm Klink stared at the empty sheet of paper in front of him as he tried to find a way to describe the indescribable. He was a proud German and military man who took seriously his responsibility to record in triplicate every detail of events that occurred under his command. However, while Klink would still agree that this was the best way to maintain order, he had discovered that no amount of paperwork could be of assistance in making sense of the frequent events that he had encountered since becoming Kommandant of Stalag Thirteen.

In other words, Klink could find no precedent on how to report the siege of a prisoner of war camp by a band of Gestapo werewolves.

Part of him said that he should just forget about the events of two nights ago but Klink was not a man who shirked from his duty. And filling out the proper paperwork was high on the list of any German officer's duties.

Besides, the events should be reported, Klink decided, especially the insubordination of his guards. Klink's nerves bristled at the thought of his guards' cowardice. His men deserved to be punished for their failure to defend this camp. But, in order to discipline his men, he first had to explain why they were deserving of punishment.

_General Burkhalter, I beg to report that the soldiers you assigned to my command proved to be incompetent during a recent attack on Stalag Thirteen by a band of dangerous werewolves._

Klink buried his heads in his hands. He could already hear the laughter of his superiors in Berlin. Who would ever believe that there were real werewolves in Germany? He barely believed it himself.

Did he dare tell the truth? If his superiors had no knowledge of Werwolf, Klink ran the risk of them believing that he was crazy. If they did know, he could get in trouble for talking about military secrets.

What was a lowly prison camp kommandant to do?

A knock at the door, for once, provided a welcome distraction as Klink called out, "Come in."

Schultz slowly pushed open the door and shuffled into the room, holding a rather large box in his arms. "Herr Kommandant, I wish to report that the Red Cross packages have arrived."

"Good. Come back when the truck is unloaded."

"Yes, Herr Kommandant. It is just I discovered something in this box that I think you need to inspect."

"Well, let's see it," Klink said, hoping that that he hadn't been given another headache to deal with.

"This box is full of things for prisoners' recreation hall," Schultz explained as he set it down on Klink's desk.

Klink grimaced at how the box scattered his papers but Schultz didn't notice as he rummaged through the contents, saying, "We have ping pong balls, playing cards, books, a board game…"

Getting impatient, Klink looked in the box for himself and immediately spotted something that he had never seen in a Red Cross shipment before. "What is this? A movie!"

Klink had never received a movie for the prisoners before. He hadn't even known that the Red Cross sent movies. Surely, this must be some sort of mistake. Though, thinking of all the pretty frauleins that were in American movies, he didn't think that this was a mistake that he would be complaining about. This movie would be a welcome boast of morale for his men and he supposed for the prisoners as well.

"Yes, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied nervously as he shifted from foot to foot.

Klink furrowed his brow in confusion. He thought his sergeant of the guard liked all things American. He certainly ate enough American candy bars. Schultz should be ecstatic over this film. Something was wrong but surely a verboten film won't have made it past the German inspectors, would have it?

Pulling the film from the box, Klink looked at the writing on the side and immediately dropped it in shock. There could only be one person responsible for this travesty.

"Hogan!"

* * *

The current recipient of Klink's ire leaned against the post of the open barracks door, watching as the guards unloaded some very welcome packages. While London supplemented their supplies, Hogan still depended on those packages for bribes. For some reason, London didn't consider chocolate a military necessity.

"About time," Newkirk grumbled as he fiddled with the stub of his last cigarette while carefully counting the number of items removed from the truck.

"Yeah, if they had taken any longer we would have run out of candy bars to give Schultz," Carter added.

"Keep a close eye on the guards," Hogan ordered. "Whatever they steal…"

"Oh, I know," Carter interrupted. "Have Newkirk steal it back."

"It's not stealing if it was ours to begin with," Newkirk corrected.

Leaving his men to their task, Hogan walked back inside the barracks. The common room was about half-full as many of the men were outside, taking advantage of the recreation period and the warm summer day. Most of those that remained were reading or writing letters, except for Kinch who was dead to the world as he lay fast asleep on a borrowed bunk.

Hogan smiled as he thought of all the hard work his men had put in over these past few days. They had done the impossible and landed fifteen commandoes in camp without any of the guards noticing a thing. Then, when all the other tasks were done, Kinch had spent long hours at the radio coordinating with the underground to ensure that they snuck a mole into one of Lupul's gatherings. Hogan wasn't sure what disguise Danzig had used to get into that recruitment meeting with the Nazi Youth but the American liked to think the famous female impersonator had gone as a fanatical freckled teenager.

Nevertheless, it was Kinch who spent a sleepless night in the tunnels first writing down the information Danzig gave him, then coding it before sending it off to London. At least now they had a pretty good idea of what the Nazis hoped to achieve with their Werwolf commandos but it would up to others to put the information they had gathered to use.

Werwolf was London's problem now.

Moving carefully as not to disturb the sleeping sergeant, Hogan was headed toward his quarters when a flustered Schultz entered the barracks.

Immediately, a chorus of long and loud howls rang out from the bunks causing the guard to jump and drop his rifle.

Hogan held back a chuckle at the sight. Poor Schultz; ever since he had figured out that there had never been any werewolves the men had been unable to resist in joining in some good natured teasing, trusting that sergeant could always be depended on to say nothing.

After picking up his rifle, Schultz declared, "That is not funny."

The howls continued unabated.

Schultz grew more frustrated as he shouted, "This time you have gone too far!"

Holding up one hand, Hogan ordered, "You heard the man. Settle down. After all, Schultz is a sensitive fellow."

"Yeah, especially with all that soft weight he carries," LeBeau added.

Schultz groaned and Hogan wondered if they had just pushed the usually jolly German beyond his limits.

"I am not talking about the howling," Schultz clarified. "Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants to see you. I warned you that one day you would go too far and this time you have gone too far."

Hogan immediately thought back over the events of the last couple of days. There hadn't been any extra circular activities since the commando drop two nights ago. His men knew to refrain from pulling anything suspicious in the aftermath of a big job.

However, that didn't mean that everyone had obeyed.

"Alright, which one of you pulled something without my permission?"

A series of adamant denials led Hogan to realize that it must be a man from another barracks or just Klink's overly active imagination playing games on him.

A groggy Kinch looked up from the bunk and asked, "Schultz, why don't you just tell us what it is that you are talking about?"

"You don't know? You have to know."

"Know what, Schultz?" Hogan pressed.

"You don't know."

"No, I do not know."

Schultz shuffled nervously. "The Kommandant will tell you."

Hogan was beginning to get a headache but for once Schultz decided to be stubborn and refuse to give any more information no matter how hard they pressed. LeBeau's offer of strudel hadn't even tempted the guard.

When strudel failed to get results, Hogan knew it was time to give in and see what Klink was up in arms about. As he followed Schultz across the compound, Newkirk shot him a look that asked whether he should return to the barracks and listen in. Hogan shook his head no. Kinch and LeBeau were enough. Besides, with every step, Hogan convinced himself that this was probably nothing more than Klink worrying over nothing.

So when Hogan reached the office, he plastered a grin on his face and opened the door. "Kommandant, you wanted to see me?"

Klink looked up from an object on his paper and box filled desk. "Yes, Colonel Hogan."

Following Klink's glaze, Hogan studied the object on the desk and all of his guesses as to why Klink had called him in went flying out the window. But knowing how to play the game, Hogan didn't miss a beat as he said enthusiastically, "A movie, Kommandant. Wait until I tell the men. Do you know how long it has been since we have seen a movie?"

"Colonel Hogan, you are up to something. But this time the joke is on you."

First Schultz, now Klink was making no sense. At least less sense than normal. Was this krauts confuse the enemy day?

"I do not know how you did it but I know that somehow you are responsible. I promise you that will feel the full might of the iron colonel for this!" Klink declared while shaking his fist.

"Did what, sir?"

In answer Klink simply gestured towards the film lying on his desk.

Leaning over to read the title written on the case, the American officer immediately realized what the problem was even as he knew that none of the men in this camp were responsible. At that instant, Hogan wanted to simultaneously laugh at the absurdity of it all and strangle whoever had made the decision to place that particular movie in Stalag Thirteen's Red Cross shipment.

"I don't know what to say, Kommandant," Hogan said honestly. "It is a rather funny coincidence for the Red Cross to send us _Werewolf of London _right after the incident with the Gestapo and the Gauleiter."

Klink was furious. "Coincidence! Hogan, you cannot surely expect me to believe that this is purely coincidence."

For all the lies Klink had swallowed without of second thought it figured that the one time Hogan told Klink the honest to God truth Klink had decided not to believe him.

That's what he got for crying Werwolf.

Well, if Klink wouldn't believe the truth there was only one option left: lie.

Luckily, lying was a skill that came naturally to Hogan and lying to Klink was no challenge at all. For it only took Hogan one glance at the mess of papers scattered on Klink's desk to come up with a yarn that was relevant to the current situation and played on the kraut's natural fears.

"Forgive me, Kommandant. I shouldn't have made light of your situation. Nothing is ever a coincidence when the Gestapo is involved."

The expression on Klink's face went from angry to fearful in two seconds flat. "The Gestapo!" he gasped. "You are saying that the Gestapo is responsible for this?"

"The Red Cross has never sent movies before so someone else must have added it to the box. Think about it, if you were a member of the Gestapo and you got word that a certain camp kommandant was thinking of reporting certain events that you would rather be keep secret to his superior officers, what would you do?"

Klink gasped and immediately throw a pile of paperwork into the trash. "I would never betray the trust placed in me by the Gestapo."

Knowing that he had Klink right where he wanted him, Hogan sealed the deal. "I would be thankful that, as warnings go, this was a rather mild one."

Klink whitened as his imagination immediately went to several other less pleasant scenarios.

Now that the blame for the movie was off his men and the possibility of Berlin hearing about the activities of two nights was now off the table, Hogan turned his attention to his next important task. "So, Kommandant, about that movie? Any chance we could show it this Friday. We had an escape committee meeting planned but the men will surely reschedule for the sight of Valarie Hobson."

"Hogan!"

"Okay, Friday's bad. How about Saturday? You know how restless the men get on weekends."

"Hogan, get out!"

Fully in his element now, Hogan didn't give up. "Saturday it is. Any guard who brings popcorn to share is welcome to join us."

"Hogan, where do expect my men to get popcorn in the middle of a war?"

"Fine I guess we'll settle for peanuts."

"You'll settle for my permission to hold your movie night."

"Why, sir, you truly a symbol of generosity, an inspiration to us all."

Klink puffed up at the praise so it was with a smile that he saluted the American. "Dismissed."

As Hogan headed back to the barracks, he couldn't help but chuckle at how events had unfolded with Klink. For even as unbelievable as some of the lies he got away with were, in Stalag Thirteen, nothing was more unbelievable than the truth.

And that was just how Hogan wanted it.


End file.
